


Freudian Sleep

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-20 06:05:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11330049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Freudian Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Freudian Sleep by AnneZo

Slashx: 16 July 1998  
ArchiveX: 27 July 1998  
Disclaimer stuff: Ten Thirteen Productions, and everyone else officially associated with CC&Co are going to hate this one. They own all of the X-Files characters mentioned here.  
Usual Apologies: I should probably apologize to burglars everywhere, but I'm not really worried about being sued by the criminal element.   
Guilt: It's my fault and I admit it, Christy beta-read it, but that doesn't make it her fault. 

* * *

Freudian Sleep  
by AnneZo

"That cat burglar thing took about ten years off of my life," Walter said accusingly.

Mulder licked his lips and smiled fondly. "As I recall, you enjoyed that one." He shoved another chunk of the steak into his mouth and mumbled around the obstruction. "Twice."

"That didn't have anything to do with it," Walter lied obstinately. He gave Mulder a thoughtful look. "You never did tell me where you found those spandex tights."

"Local drag queen shop," Mulder said promptly. "If you really liked them, I can buy a pair."

"God forbid." Walter shuddered. He didn't really believe Mulder would go that far, but he'd learned to be cautious. The memory of the black-clad figure bursting into his apartment from the balcony still had the power to give him heart palpitations. 

"Just as well," Mulder said cheerfully. "They had their drawbacks."

Walter laughed. "I'm surprised you didn't hurt yourself getting out of them." Beyond the excited gleam in his lover's eyes, the thing Walter remembered most about that heart-stopping moment was the insistent bulge of Mulder's dick as it tried to carve itself an escape from the skin-tight fabric. 

Mulder had misjudged the time between his own arrival at Walter's apartment and when the older man would be home. He'd amused himself during the interval by picturing various possible erotic outcomes to his prank. By the time Walter had walked into the dark apartment, it was a toss-up as to whether or not Mulder would make it through the scene.

"Anything for a good time," Mulder smirked. "We could do that one again, if you want."

"I don't," Walter said definitely. 

"I can't believe you didn't know it was me," Mulder snickered. "You live on the twenty-sixth floor, Walter! Did you really think some guy was going to climb up there just to make off with your television set?"

"Mulder, when I see a masked and presumably armed man breaking into my apartment, I don't stop to think about the details."

Mulder shook his head. "Whatever. It turned out okay, though."

"If you say so." 

"Admit it. It was hot," Mulder challenged.

Walter picked up the remote control. In the three seconds that had passed between seeing the black-clad figure and recognizing it as Mulder, he figured he must have aged about ten years. On the other hand, Mulder had a point about what had happened after his lover had recognized him. He let the subject drop.

. . . .

His subconscious rewarded him in his dreams that night. He was sitting in his condo, the room and the furniture oddly enlarged around him, when a huge, dark shape burst through the window. Somehow, he knew it was Mulder, in spite of the black-clad figure's enormous bulk. He was terrified and aroused a second later to find his face pressed against the surface of the low coffee table, his arms extended and tied firmly to opposing table legs, effectively immobilizing him. 

A heavy, dark weight settled over his head and shoulders and he lay there helplessly under the blinding obstruction, feeling large, powerful hands stripping off his clothing and exploring his exposed body roughly. Stiff gloves covered the seeking fingers, the fabric gritty against his skin. 

Walter whimpered softly, hoping the strange Mulder couldn't hear him. He was afraid of what might happen. Afraid he might be attacked. Afraid he might not be. The cheeks of his ass were pried apart painfully and something hot and wet pressed against the puckered opening, spearing him on its warm length. 

A rare but exquisite pleasure filled him as the surprisingly gentle probe slid deeper and deeper. It pushed against the buried pleasure spot, then encircled it wetly until he felt his entire soul cupped in the throbbing embrace, warm and safe. He bit into the fabric around him to stifle his cries, offering up his climax joyfully to the unseen lover.

Walter woke slowly, the echoes of pleasure still wracking his body as the dream faded into reality. His climax, so overwhelming in the dream, still lingered tantalizingly out of reach. He pressed his hips against the firmness of the mattress and sighed, feeling Mulder's hand working into him.

Mulder nuzzled his ear gently. "Turn over." The hand fell away, then probed back between his thighs as Walter rolled onto his back. 

Moonlight streamed into the room through the open curtains. He watched, mesmerized at the sight of Mulder kneeling over him. With a rush, the erotic details of his dream filled his memory. "Are you going to fuck me?" he asked breathlessly.

Mulder stopped, staring down at him, then his face filled with possessive hunger. "Until you scream," he promised huskily. He got both of them out of their underwear in a tangle of arms and elbows and knees. Walter remained pliant, letting himself be stripped and pressing kisses against Mulder's face and arms when he could reach them, but otherwise letting his lover do everything.

Mulder loomed over him in the semi-darkness. He cupped his lover's face in two trembling hands. "I want you," he said hoarsely, "on your back with your legs apart and your arms behind your head."

Walter nodded silently and assumed the required position. Mulder stared down at him, eyes blazing as he lubricated his engorged cock and knelt between the outspread thighs. He lifted Walter's hips and pushed a pillow under them, his hands caressing the solid flesh greedily. 

Walter took a deep breath and let it out, then stilled as Mulder began working into him. Walter's dream still echoed through his mind and that dream-Mulder merged with the shadowed figure kneeling over him. He bit his lip and pushed against the invader. "Please." 

The plea was barely a whisper, but Mulder heard it and passion sparkled in the hazel eyes. With one brutal thrust he forced himself past the unseen barrier and deeply into the unprepared body. Walter bit back a cry of pain, the brief flare warring with the pleasure of his lover's possession. 

Mulder slowed, his hips barely moving as he melted the agony into renewed desire. His eyes drank in the sight of the older man's heavy body writhing beneath him avidly. "Say it," he demanded. "Say it, say it, say it," he chanted, his strokes deepening with every repetition.

"Fuck me," Walter responded raggedly. He was willing to say it. He was willing to beg if necessary. "Please, fuck me."

"I will," Mulder promised him. He closed his eyes. "I am."

A freight train was rolling through Walter's body, gathering speed and momentum. He tried to hold it back, watching his lover's blissful face. "You fuck like a fifteen-year old," he moaned. "Like it's all new and you can't believe it really feels so good." 

Mulder sobbed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Why do you feel so good?"

Walter wrapped his legs around the pounding hips. "Touch me," he demanded.

Mulder shifted his hands to Walter's wrists, pinning them to the couch behind his head. "Not yet," he refused. 

Walter strained against the confining hands, the weight just enough to give him the illusion he was trapped. "I'm ready." He heard the note of pleading in his own voice with amazement.

"You can wait," Mulder crooned. "Wait for it." He twisted his hips, battering Walter's prostate mercilessly.

Walter shuddered and bucked helplessly into the pleasure. "I'm ready now," he babbled.

"You can wait," Mulder assured him. He rode deeply into Walter's warmth, then slipped back. A hard thrust and he was buried to the hilt in the older man's body, then resuming his relentless rhythm. 

Walter closed his eyes. The Mulder-stranger loomed over him threateningly, too strong to resist. He cried out softly, something in his brain coming loose from its mooring. He heard the sound of his own voice through a distant tunnel. "Mulder, please touch me."

"You're mine, Walter." Mulder growled softly and shook his head, the beads of sweat scattering across Walter's body and burning like fire. 

"Yes," Walter agreed desperately. "Yes, I am." He's making me beg. Mulder's cock pounded into him, deep, hard strokes that rocked his entire body. I need to beg. He opened his eyes and stared into Mulder's eyes, making no attempt to hide his longing. "Touch me, Mulder."

His lover moaned, his eyes crazy with passion and something else. "You know what I want to hear."

Walter didn't know. He stared into the fever-bright eyes. "Mulder, please, I need it."

"So close," Mulder sobbed. His cock slid impossibly deeper, spearing Walter on its heavy length. "Say it, damn you!"

"Don't stop!" Walter cried out, his hungry body poised on the brink of fulfillment.

Mulder fucked him with brutal thoroughness. "Tell me, tell me, tell me," he commanded, his body rocking in time with his demands.

"I need it," Walter repeated helplessly. His body raised and opened, offering itself blindly to the invader. So big, his brain gibbered. So strong. "I want you, please, Mulder. I need you now."

A cry of triumph and the other man plunged against him heavily. Walter's neglected cock, trapped in the vise of their bodies, twitched and erupted, pouring a creamy froth into its nest.

Mulder shivered and Walter could feel his lover's orgasm flooding his body. Mulder whimpered and shuddered again and another wave of heat poured out of him.

Mulder collapsed next to him slowly, and Walter felt their bodies parting with a pang of regret. His mouth came down against Walter's parted lips briefly.

The bizarre combination of his dream and Mulder's unexpected passion were tangled in his mind, but his body felt heavy and sated. 

Mulder kissed his shoulder. "You okay?"

Walter smiled to himself and wrapped his arm around his lover. "Yeah."

"Someday, you're going to have to tell me where your head was that time," Mulder said sleepily. "You were out there."

Walter smiled. "It was right here," he promised. "With you."

****

The End


End file.
